


A Father’s Prayer

by Marasa



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: (in this fic at least), Angst, Character Study, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kendall is a good dad, Past Child Abuse, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:55:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26644843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marasa/pseuds/Marasa
Summary: It’s Thanksgiving, and the world might be falling apart.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	A Father’s Prayer

**Author's Note:**

> I just watched the season 1 Thanksgiving episode and it made me emotional so I wrote this fic about Kendall being a good dad

His children’s pain is Kendall’s own. 

When Sophie was five, back when Kendall had only been a father for a few years and had the short-lived privilege of walking her to school through the shaded streets of the Upper East Side, she had tripped. Her black Mary Janes must have caught on a raised edge of sidewalk or slipped atop an acorn in their path that brisk September morning.

Kendall hadn’t been holding her hand. Sophie insisted she was a big girl, that she could walk all by herself. It had broken his heart in a weird little way as she had taken her tiny hand out of his so she could walk independently a step or two in front of him. Sophie was her own person already at this age, with preferences and opinions and unabashed confidence.

But she had tripped and when she fell, Kendall had not been there to catch her.

She wept where she lay on the pavement. Something like an avalanche collapsed within him and Kendall hadn’t thought, had just followed the paternal instinct blaring in him, as he bolted forward and scooped Sophie up into the safety of his arms. It didn’t quell the shock of the fall or the stinging scuff of her knees or the tiny bits of sand dusting her palms, but it was something— offered protection, maybe. Comfort. 

Sophie cried into her father’s pressed, blue business suit. Kendall blinked and he remembered it burning. He couldn’t know if the thin sheen of tears gathering in his eyes came from the autumn wind as it blew against him or if it indeed came from somewhere deep in his chest. 

Kendall had carried his daughter the rest of the way to school that morning but as he tried to set her down outside of the school building, Sophie clung tighter with her arms around his neck. 

“When you fall, you have to keep going,” Kendall told her. “It’s okay to cry.” And that part was one he had never been told as a child. “It’s okay to be upset. And it’s okay to hurt. But you have to keep going. Okay?”

He wiped away her tears. He kissed her head.

Kendall wanted to walk her up the stairs to the front doors of the elementary school but Sophie said again that she was big so she went all by herself. And he had watched her from the street, his dark eyelashes wet and his cheeks dry.

It’s Thanksgiving, and the world might be falling apart. 

They are on a bench under the stairs. Iverson is between Kendall and Rava, two walls that are his refuge and protection against the wolves of the Roy family. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

Tears fall as their son wrings his fingers together. Whatever he needs to do, whatever is best for him to calm down. Kendall will be there, as will Rava; impending divorce or not, they will always be there as his tireless support team.

Kendall sweeps Iverson’s hair away from the left side of his face as gently as possible. His face is flushed from crying but there is a slight crimson shadow just on his cheekbone. It will not bruise—at least Kendall prays it doesn’t—but it will be tender and will be a constant reminder of his grandfather’s indiscriminate disdain for everyone who is not himself. 

Kendall had felt the same against his own face, as had Roman, as had Connor, as even Shiv had. Logan’s hand had first struck Kendall at around Iverson’s age. That day, something had broken in him and it had yet to fix. He could pile distractions and the haziness of time over it but it was still a festering fissure of broken trust and pain and hate and confusion. 

Kendall drags a hand over his face, a shuddery, fearful exhale stifled against his palm. He comes closer to wrap an arm around Iverson in front of him as a further barrier between him and the cruel world the Roys have helped to create. Kendall kisses his head, remains close as panic and hurt courses through his blood and floods his ears. 

Roman will be of no help. Shiv will go quiet. Connor will disappear and no one will speak of what has happened because it hurts too much to discuss. Kendall is on his own. 

His children will never be alone.

If Logan was good for anything as a father, he has been the example for Kendall of what not to do. Where Logan was hateful, Kendall will be a well of love and understanding. Where Logan was cold, Kendall will burn. And every place Logan broke him, Kendall will build up in his children so they’ll be stronger than he ever will be.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on tumblr: @marasamoon


End file.
